This story is about me. Only me. It’s about my ego and insecurities and fears and needs.
I typically write what I think might be useful for others to know and understand, but this is different. It’s more like a diary entry. A confessional. A cry of frustration.
It’s the sort of thing I would address to a wife or partner or trusted companion — if I had a woman in that role. It’s my half of a conversation which I would need to have with someone who loved me and believed in me and was permanently a part of my life.
So this probably isn’t for you.
I’m struggling right now. In many ways, things are the best in my life that they’ve been for at least 20 years. I have stability and purpose again. I know where I want to go. I’m more clear about my values and my priorities than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m struggling with the gap between how things ought to be and the reality I see in front of me. And that gap terrifies me — because nobody lives forever.

What makes someone want you enough to make you a priority?
Don’t believe angry words and deception from a wounded heart
God may be working on what we need long before we can see it
Tenn. woman threatened for allowing daughter to ride bike to school
Why is it so hard to make good art? It’s something I’ll never understand
If you want to honor military dead, stop supporting unnecessary wars
In denial? Isn’t it time to accept that elections won’t change anything?
Grief keeps reopening the door my loving mother walked out of
Just because you have right to be rude doesn’t mean it’s justified